


Checkmate

by soundofthesurf



Category: Take That
Genre: M/M, OT5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofthesurf/pseuds/soundofthesurf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard has slightly altered the Kidz-choreography on the first night of the tour and everyone deals with it differently...</p><p>"Watching them doing their dance-off tonight it had finally struck him like lightning: this wasn't a battle – this was a courtship dance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Progress-Live-Tour-ficathon.
> 
> It's basically a big cloud of fluff, with little bits of angst and frustration. And cheeky!Rob... ;D

"So, are you intending to do _that_ every night?"  
Howard notices that Mark emphasized the word "that" awkwardly, but he's still high on adrenaline and in a playful mode and so simply answers "Audience loved it, Markie!"  
Mark snorts. “Almost forgot me cue, mate, you should've told me you were up for something like _that_!” The “that” again with a special kind of emphasis that Howard can't quite classify.  
“Sorry, mate.”  
An excuse, but no “it won't happen again”, Mark notices. Instead Howard's still grinning and humming a song to himself and looking very smug.

And Mark understands. Watching them doing their dance-off tonight it had finally struck him like lightning: this wasn't a battle – this was a courtship dance. And, blimey, it was hot! So hot in fact, that for a little while time seemed to stand still, long enough to nearly make Mark miss his cue. It had send Mark through a dozen different feelings: a wild rollercoaster-ride of gasping in awe, to green with envy, to all warm inside with love, to deeply insecure for feeling inferior amongst all the talent on that stage, and back to gasping in awe again. For a moment he had felt ridiculously self-conscious in his hoodie, clinging on to dear life to his stick, watching the two world-class entertainers high up on their chairs and the two world-class dancers on the chess board and wondering what the hell _he_ was doing there. But then he had pulled himself together and started the neverending fight of forcing his thoughts away from the bad feelings into a positive direction. Forcing his thoughts to pick up on all the happy energy around him. Forcing himself to remember that _he_ was the one who had written most of this song, that he didn't sing lead on this one for _no_ reason, that throughout most of this performance all eyes were on _him_.

He would still have a word with Howard later.

 

_No one had ever said that being the cute one amongst the crooners and the athletes was easy._

 

“So, are you intending to do that every night?” Robbie sniggers while playfully punching Howard in the gut.  
“Most definitely, audience loved it!” (Perfectly alright to use a good argument twice, right?)

Rob slips into his famous singsong-modus “The audience, my friend,” he sways his hips a little, “the audience was waiting for a kiss. And so was I, my friend.”  
“Rob, it's simply dancing, you know? We've always done this.”  
“Yeah, mate, you've always done _this_. And it never was hotter, Dougie, no no never.” Still serenading him with his face all mischief. “Seriously, now I know why you insisted on the MC-Hammer-trousers, you clever bastard! How else could you possibly cover what's growing...”  
“Oh, grow up, Rob!” Howard interrupts curtly and leaves.

Rob shakes his head – when will they ever understand?

 

_No one had ever said that being an omniscient amongst the ignorant was easy._

 

“So, are you intending to do that every night?” Howard notices that Gaz is oddly stony-faced.  
“Audience loved it.” (Does it start sounding hollow third time around?)  
“Are you sure?” Gary's unable to hide his disapproval.

Howard starts stroking his chin thoughtfully. If there's one band-member that can really make him feel insecure, it's Gary. Gary's the one he can't compete with, and Gary's the only one he couldn't ever offer advice to. Gary's just above him. Which usually isn't a problem - he loves Gaz way too much to mind. They're mates, fullstop. Still, when Gary criticised something it had double the effect on Howard than everyone else's criticism and usually left him speechless and feeling small. Tonight, though, after one hell of a show and probably due to the endorphins, he feels he needs to stand in for himself.

“The audience loves it, Gaz – use that chair you're sitting on, swing it around and watch the people enjoying it!”

It comes out a bit harsher than he'd intended, probably.

Gary doesn't say anything, but during the next nights he takes a look around. And he sees Howard's right – the audience loves it. All Gary sees is an ocean of awestruck faces, slacked jaws, and giddy smiles – pure delight.

 

_No one had ever said that being the prude one amongst the cheeky chappies was easy._

 

“So, are you intending to do that _every_ night?” Her voice is a little bit higher-pitched than usual.  
Howard sighs and mutters “Audience loved it.” (Regardless whether this is a déjà vu or a strange time loop – it's beginning to freak Howard out.)

“Ah, great, of course! If _the audience_ loved it!”  
Howard can't decide what he hates more: the pouting or the passive aggressiveness. Probably the mixture.  
“It's my job, you better get used to it. I don't know what's the big deal anyway?”

She snaps. “You don't know what the fucking big deal is?!” She doesn't expect an answer, because even in her anger she knows there's no correct answer anyway. Locked away in the bathroom she starts exploring her emotions. Why does it upset her so much? Is she really jealous of a guy? She's watched what happened from the VIP-booth and couldn't believe what she saw. For months she has carefully marked her territory, following Howard everywhere – video shoots, night clubs, promo tours. Just to make sure everyone knows _she_ is the girlfriend. _Hands off my man, ladies!_ And tonight she's realized it's all in vain. Useless effort. A waste of time. She could travel the world with Howard until the end of time, but she could never be with him on stage.

And she would _never ever_ get one of those looks Howard ever only gave _him_.

 

_No one had ever said that being Howard Donald's girlfriend was easy._

 

Howard's had enough. There's only one place left to go now and he's more than thankful that some things never change. He flops down on the lounger next to Jason. “Can't sleep?”  
“Dunno, mate, haven't tried yet. It's just such a beautiful night, isn't it? Didn't want to waste it, y'know?”  
“Yeah.”

They sit and watch the stars and the sky and sometimes secretly each other's profile. It's calm, it's peaceful, it's perfect. They fix themselves that way - Jason from recalling every little mistake he's made during the show over and over again, Howard from not understanding Mark, not properly coping with Rob, disappointing Gary and upsetting his girlfriend. They're both not perfect and they know it. But up here on the roof terrace, under the stars, it doesn't matter. Up here it's only the two of them, Howard and Jason, Jason and Howard. No judging, no competing, no misunderstanding.

“So, are you intending to do that every night?”  
For the first time tonight Howard is looking forward to answering that question, a sly grin creeping onto his face.  
“Audience loved it.” (What was an excuse four times before is now a teasing.)

Howard loves that, even though he can't see it, he _knows_ that Jason's tongue's right now nervously licking his upper lip. He loves that he knows him that well. He even knows what he's going to say next...  
“Bastard.”  
Howard doesn't need to have the last word - this isn't about winning.

 

_And no one would ever deny that being Jason Orange sometimes was just absolutely fucking brilliant._


End file.
